


Sleep Well

by actingwithportals



Series: We Are Wide Awake Now [9]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Final farewells, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Sort Of, and that the first thing I write is angst without a happy ending, don't worry I will correct this in the future and write happy stuff for them, it's very unsexy of me to have not written this pairing yet, technically not death but close enough to hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:00:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24987193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actingwithportals/pseuds/actingwithportals
Summary: Hive Queen Vespa knows her days are numbered. Perhaps that number is great, or perhaps it is small; but no matter what that number may be, it will not grant her a final reunion with the one she holds most dear.But she can visit her resting place, at least. One last time.
Relationships: Herrah the Beast/Hive Queen Vespa (Hollow Knight), Hornet & Hive Queen Vespa (Hollow Knight)
Series: We Are Wide Awake Now [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1740406
Comments: 16
Kudos: 88





	Sleep Well

**Author's Note:**

> Have a treat while I take a break from writing the angst of Ghost's backstory to write . . . more angst!
> 
> I have no excuses for this, I am so sorry. This wasn't even intended to show up at this point in my series queue (or show up at all, really), but I was struck with inspiration and couldn't resist putting this up. I hope you guys aren't disappointed, at least.

“Take as long as you need. I will wait for you outside.”

“Are you sure you do not wish to join me in this?” Vespa asked, looking down to the little spiderling she had come to love so much, cherished as much as her own hivelings. But she could hardly call her a spiderling anymore, for Hornet had grown, come into being a strong, independent, remarkable spider.

So much like her mother.

Hornet shook her head, a tight action that was hardly more than a single jerk in both directions. “I will wait for you here,” she answered, and Vespa decided now was not the time to comment on the way her fingers gripped her needle too tightly, or the way her shoulders tensed to the point of being a hindrance rather than a benefit.

No, this was not the place for such words.

“I will return to you shortly, then,” Vespa said, nodding her head slowly before turning to enter the chamber of which she had long-since learned every detail.

Details that she would never be able to forget.

It was quiet, just as she remembered. Unlike the constant humming of her own chambers, the Den of the Beast held little sound beyond the faint skittering of the Devout who stalked the halls below, or the Weavers crawling about here and there, or the occasional songs of silk on the walls and floors and ceilings being plucked by tiny claws that scurried over them. And as for the bedchamber of the Beast herself, there was – as there had been for a long time – the accompanying hiss of burning candles.

Gifts from the Hive.

Vespa remembered well the day she gave Herrah those gifts, remembered how the imposing Queen of Deepnest grew soft at the gesture of affection, how she thanked her for the kindness with gifts of her own.

That memory in particular held a special place in Vespa’s thoughts.

The room remained in its quiet way as she walked to the plinth that held the room’s center, to the figure who lay sleeping atop it, caught in a Dream that would never release its prey.

Was it peaceful for her, at least? Did the Dream protect her rest from the worries that still chased those who were left damned to waking? She looked peaceful, from where Vespa stood; but she also looked far too still. Like the tolls of life did indeed catch up to her in that place. Like the Dream had taken away all of the life (and she had _so much of it_ ) that made her the spider Vespa had come to know and love so dearly.

Stillness did not suit Deepnest’s Queen. Not near so much as action, as movement.

“It is long-past time I visited you, my love,” Vespa spoke softly, almost afraid that the sound of her voice would break the spell that held the room together, and yet at the same time wanting that desperately more than anything. “I apologize for not coming sooner. You should not have been made to wait on me for so long.”

The figure did not grant her a response; instead she simply continued to sleep in that too-still manner.

“Your daughter has completed her training,” Vespa went on. “You would be proud of how far she’s come; how much she’s grown. I see more of you in her with every passing day, and nothing could make me happier, I think.”

The candles crackled; somewhere further down, further in, a Weaver sang with their silk across a hall.

“Well. There is one thing that would make me happier, actually.”

She took another step forward, paused, straightened herself, and resolutely knelt down beside the plinth, reaching a hand forward to rest against Herrah’s mask.

“For you to wake, to hear your voice once more, to feel your hand in mine, and the warmth of your hold. That would make me happiest. But I know some dreams can simply not be granted. Dreams have done very little to bring us happiness, after all.”

Herrah did not so much as stir, like a corpse that had long-since grown hard.

“You would be happy to know your daughter has been named, my love,” Vespa continued, letting her claws stroke gently up and down the side of her mask. “It suits her well, and I believe she wears it with pride. I do not know if she has told you yet of what it is, and I will not risk taking that right from her to bless you first with the knowledge by speaking it now.”

Slowly up and then down, slowly back up, and once again down.

“She’s more fearsome than even my own knight, I would say,” Vespa added with a small laugh. “I believe she gets that strength from you. She will grow up to become a fine queen someday; you did well to raise her as such.”

Up and down. Again. Up and down.

“When you asked me to care for her in your stead, I cannot deny that while I was honored to be tasked with something so dear to you, my heart also ached for what could have been.”

Up and down. Again. Up and down. Up and down. Up and . . . down.

“To raise her together . . . that would have been most ideal, would have been the greatest blessing I could receive. I love her like my own, and I will not allow her to never see that, but how much sweeter it would be for you to be here with us as well. To complete us. I know she does not feel whole without you by her side. I do not feel whole, either.”

Up . . . and down. Up again. Down. Down and . . . down . . .

“Is it selfish of me to rather have you here, to look into your eyes and hold you just once more? For you to wake and return to me and damn the King and his war with an ancient God and whatever consequences may come of it. To hear your voice one more time . . . To hear you say your daughter’s name that I so carefully chose to not only honor her but the memory of you as well. Am I selfish for such desires?”

Herrah did not answer; she never would.

Up again. Down. Down. Down.

Vespa’s shoulders shook, her hand resting now just below the point of Herrah’s mask, cupping the side of her face. “You left us too soon, my love. There was still so much I had to tell you, so many memories I wanted to share. A future of which I dreamed. And now it has turned to dust.”

She raised her other hand, gently resting it against the other side of Herrah’s mask and carefully lifting it, taking measure to not disturb her hood too much in the process.

“But we must think of our peoples; the ones we love, and those who love us in return. And I am so proud of the choice you made to ensure all of our safety, no matter how much I may weep with your absence.”

She did not think on the way her voice broke with the last words, her attention instead focused on the face before her, three sets of eyes closed in a look of relieving peace. She did not appear disturbed or distressed or plagued with nightmares of that equally fearsome realm.

Perhaps Herrah’s worries did not pursue her, after all. Vespa hoped so much for that.

“There will come a time that I will no longer be able to leave my Hive,” she whispered, leaning over her lover’s face. “A time where I too will pass from this world, and it will be my turn to leave you behind. Do not weep for me when that day comes; I have shed enough tears for the both of us.”

She rested her face against Herrah’s, not entirely able to stop herself from nuzzling into the soft warmth of her fur.

“Sleep well, my love,” Vespa breathed, her claws rubbing gentle circles along the sides of her face. “May your dreams bring to you only the same joy you have given me for all the years we shared.”

A kiss was placed just between her fangs; soft, lingering, trembling with the fear of an end.

She did not pull away for a long time, and if it rained in whatever dreams Herrah found herself in – just like it rained for Vespa now – she hoped it at least brought her peace.

For it was a while before that rain did finally end.

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes:
> 
> 1 This takes place shortly after Hornet completes her training with the Hive, before the Pale King and his palace all disappear and Hornet confronts White Lady in "Is This What Love is Really For? (Act I)".  
> 2 Vespa and Herrah weren't exactly open about their relationship, but it wasn't really a secret, either. And Hornet was raised with the outlook of Vespa being her mom too, even before she was sent to live and train at the Hive after Herrah entering the Dream.


End file.
